


Morning After (the Beach Scene)

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [105]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14990882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Antony Starr/Stephen Amell storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.This is a new log and has not previously been posted to the game.





	Morning After (the Beach Scene)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Antony Starr/Stephen Amell storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).
> 
> This is a new log and has not previously been posted to the game.

Stephen hadn't had a particularly good night's sleep, which isn't like him at all. He can only assume it was down to his ambiguity over their scene. He'd been wide awake by 5 am, but had stayed put, his head on his arm as he stared out of the huge windows watching the sun rise, not wanting to disturb his husband. 

He'd shifted his ass just after 7 - headed to the bathroom, downed a bottle of fruit juice and when Antony had stirred, called down for breakfast to be delivered, requesting a full spread before crawling back into bed.

"Mm." Antony hums out his pleasure at having Stephen back in bed with him, wrapping his arm around his husband and pulling him in close.

"Mmmm," Stephen chuckles as he echoes Antony's noise back at him, he snugs himself up tight, nosing into the crook of his husband's neck. 

Antony smiles. "Did I hear you order breakfast?" he murmurs.

"Yes sir, full complement, I'm starving," Stephen presses kisses against the stubbled skin of Antony's throat, pausing when he feels a pulse beneath the sensitive skin of his lips. "You smell good," he whispers. "Sex, sleep, my man..."

Antony smiles, rolling onto his back and pulling Stephen with him, his morning erection pressed full against his boy's belly. "I owe you permission," he murmurs.

"You do?" Stephen writhes against Antony's morning wood. "Hmm that for me?" he rumbles softly.

"All yours," Antony nods, hissing in a breath as Stephen moves against him. "You didn't come yesterday and I gave you a raincheck the night before."

"Hmm, no wonder my balls ache," Stephen smirks as he wriggles just a little more, loving the way Antony is slowly losing the plot beneath him. 

"Tease," Antony accuses, running his hands down Stephen's back to grab his ass and grind against him a little.

"Hmm how am I teasing? You pulled me up here," Stephen counters, leaning down to nibble on Antony's lower lip. "S'all your fault."

Antony grins, _fully_ awake now. "I can own up to that," he says, kissing Stephen, biting at his mouth. "Ride me."

"Please..." Stephen chuckles at that gorgeous smile. "Say please and I might even cum on you."

"Please?" Antony plays at being affronted but a second later, fingers dipping between Stephen's cheeks, he's breathing a "please" over his husband's mouth.

"I like that word in your mouth," Stephen murmurs back. "Husband mine." He reaches for lube and spills it on Antony's fingers so he can continue the exploratory fingering he'd started. 

"What else do you like?" Antony murmurs, rubbing the pads of his fingers over and around Stephen's hole before dipping inside.

"I like pleasuring you...like this, so I can see, see you and how I can make you come undone," Stephen leans back in, licking over Antony's mouth. "My only power over you, the pleasure I give you."

"So much power then," Antony says with a smile, pushing his fingers deeper, his cock throbbing roughly as he slowly stretches Stephen open.

"Is it?" Stephen's eyes slide shut and he groans.

"You give me so much pleasure, please me so much," Antony murmurs, fucking his fingers in and out, his cock jerking, spitting precome between them.

"Good... s'my purpose," Stephen whispers, he reaches back and pulls Antony's fingers from his ass, he inches up, rising up on his knees to guide Antony's cock to his hole. 

Cursing softly under his breath, Antony curls his fingers around Stephen's hips, urging him on, a groan spilling from his lips at the first penetration.

"Mine," Stephen rumbles, "My man, my husband, mine." He bears down, rocking back and forth, inching that long thick cock into his body slowly. 

"All yours," Antony agrees, keeping his hips still for now. Letting Stephen control this, the pace, the speed, his cock throbbing at the tight heat.

When he's bottomed out, when he's sure he has every last inch of Antony deep in his ass, Stephen stills. He gazes down, blue eyes all hazy with arousal, "Do I feel good?" his breath stutters for a moment as Antony flexes inside him. "All heat and pressure?"

Antony nods. "God, yeah. _So_ good." He rocks his hips a little and slides his hands up Stephen's sides, over his chest, playing with his nipples. "Like your body was made for me, for my cock."

"For my husband, my lover," Stephen counters, his fingers press harder into the flesh over Antony's pecs. He rolls his hips, his own cock tapping against his belly, leaving silvery trails of precum. 

"Your sir," Antony murmurs, although they're not in role at the moment. He moves his hands over Stephen's stomach, over those tight abs, that rigid cock, teasing the ring through its slit before he wraps his fingers around Stephen's erection, stroking firmly.

"My Tony." Those words are breathy, rough, because Stephen's arousal is high, he's been denied too long, so when Antony starts to jerk him off it takes no time at all for him to find he's hurtling toward an inevitable orgasm.

"Remember," Antony says, gaze locked on his husband, using the precome welling at the tip to slick his strokes, "You've got permission."

"Tell me... tell me... you... love... me," Stephen stutters out the demand, his hips speeding up, leaning in to adjust the angle just so, sweat sheens his flushed skin, his lips part, sounds of pleasure spills from them. _So close..._

"I love you," Antony whispers fiercely, his own body tightening in anticipation, his hand matching Stephen's movements. "More than anything, anyone..."

"Aaagghhh," Stephen cries out, his face contorted as his body convulses, semen sprays from his cock, spattering over Antony's chest and throat. His ass clamps down on Antony's cock, hard, but he continues to move, though he's much clumsier, less coordinated.

Christ. Antony drops his hands to Stephen's ass, gripping his cheeks as he drives up into him, hard and then harder, his orgasm shouted out into the room.

"Fuck." Head dropped forward, chin to chest, Stephen sucks in air, he can feel the pounding of Antony's heart beneath his palm. 

Antony just nods his agreement. He runs his hands over Stephen's back and smiles. "Good morning to you too," he murmurs finally, cursing softly as there's a rap at the door.

"I'll get it," Stephen groans, he climbs off Antony, tugs one of the sheets off the bed and drapes it around himself to answer the door. When he returns it's pushing a laden food trolley. 

"Apparently there are some gifts for us at reception, they asked if we wanted to send them up," Stephen perches on the edge of the bed. "I said we'd call down when we're ready."

Antony's propped himself up against the headboard. "Gifts?" He grins. "You want to eat first or you want me to call?" He knows how Stephen feels about gifts.

"S'up to you," Stephen shrugs off the sheet and stands. "I need to wash up before I eat." He's got Antony's cum seeping out of his ass and his hands feel sticky from lube. "You need a washcloth?" he asks over his shoulder. 

"Please," Antony says, picking up the phone and calling down for their gifts to be brought up.

"Can I please get to cum again today?" Stephen waves a washcloth and hand towel as he exits the bathroom, Antony's still sprawled in bed, and he's still got cum smeared up his torso. "Good as that was... it barely took an edge off."

"Sure. You deserve it," Antony grins, taking the washcloth and towel from Stephen and cleaning himself up. "Good?" he asks, lifting his chin, since he can't see and he's still too lazy to get out of bed.

"Here," Stephen takes the cloth and wipes at a smudge at the corner of Antony's jaw. "Not 'decent' but enough," he teases, pressing a kiss to Antony's mouth.

Antony laughs and pulls Stephen down again, kissing him fully before he lets him go. There's another rap at the door and Antony actually leaps out of bed, getting half-tangled in the remaining bedsheets as he does. "My turn." He swings the door open, blinking at the trolley loaded with presents. He was expecting a fucking gift basket or two, _maybe_. "Wow. Thanks," he tells the guy, grabbing a few bills from his wallet for a tip before he takes the trolley and wheels it into the room. "Look what we got."

Frowning Stephen looks at the trolley and then back at Antony. "I... I thought it was you, I thought you'd arranged a surprise," he admits. "Why?... Who would send us gifts here?" 

"I don't know but there's cards with most of them," Antony says, picking one out of a huge bouquet of flowers. "Absolutely brilliant scene. Thanks for making it public. Will & Jeff." He grins at Stephen. "Here's one." His eyes widening. "A two hundred dollar gift card for the Cit shop. The note says Dear Mr. Starr and Mr. Amell. Thank you so much for putting on the scene you did yesterday. My Sir and I have been together for a long time but I've still been shy about admitting some of the things I've wanted to try but after watching the two of you and seeing how my Sir reacted, I finally had the courage to share with him and he's willing for us to experiment. This is a just a token of my gratitude. Best wishes, Peter."

"What?" Stephen moves over to take the card from Antony, reading it through for himself. Then he turns his attention to the other gifts, a bottle of wine, even a basket of baked goods. He pulls the card from that and turns it over. "Mr Amell, your submission, your connection and your trust in your Sir was a truly beautiful thing to see, thank you for sharing such an intimate experience. D." Stephen looks up at his husband. "...this is..." he shakes his head, totally speechless.

"I know," Antony says, pulling Stephen in against his side and kissing his temple. "It's amazing. _You_ were amazing."

"But..." Stephen rubs at his forehead. "We've... we've played in public before and we've never had anything like this," he points out, surveying the gifts. There's even a bottle of Antony's favourite scotch, he plucks the card from that and hands it over. It's clear that some of these gifts have been personalised, the club's knowledge of their preferences regarding food and alcohol amongst other things, evident in the choices made.

"We haven't played like _that_ in public before," Antony says, opening the card. "Fantastic scene made only better by your obvious love for each other. This one's not signed."

"I didn't think..." Stephen shakes his head and moves back to the bed, where the food trolley is sat, abandoned. "I didn't think people would see me that way, us even," he busies himself pouring two coffees, dumping extra sugar in his own. 

"Positively, you mean?" Antony asks, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and taking a seat on the couch.

Stephen pauses, now he's handed over coffee he's loading up a plate of food for Antony. His lover's choice of words is spot on. "Yeah, I guess so." 

Antony nods. "Before I met you, I would've been down there, watching that scene," he says, taking a sip of his still-too-hot coffee. "And I would've been really impressed. I sure as hell wouldn't have seen the boy on his knees as anything but brave and strong."

Setting Antony's plate in front of him, silverware and a napkin put alongside Stephen returns to serve himself before replying, his task distracting him from the uncomfortable feeling he's experiencing. "But you humiliated me, not just a little, but absolutely, I was demeaned in front of all of them." 

"But the assumption _has_ be that you're strong, that you're an equal partner in what I was doing, what _we_ were doing, that that whole scene was borne out of our love and trust for each other," Antony says, sitting forward, uninterested in eating. "Otherwise? If that's not the case? Then what I was doing was abusing you, plain and simple."

He carries his own plate over and sits down beside his husband, putting the plate on the table before folding his hands in his lap. All the while Stephen is doing something he tries hard to avoid, he's looking back at his relationship with Cam, and the guy before that. 

"No one before you, ever saw me as an equal. I was a boy, a submissive, who learned to kneel to please, who would take things in the hope that my own needs might be taken care of. Often they were, some of them at least, it was enough. So I knelt, and I served and I pleased and I took pride in that, in being pleasing, in being decorative, in being an obedient boy. Some of my needs were never addressed, some were glossed over, some of my kinks were deemed too unpleasant, my need for humiliation for example, sure I was called names, put to the floor - but no one ever came close to _getting_ it like you do - so you hit the button, almost from the very start - and you pushed, you pushed me so far out of my comfort zone that I lost my bearings, I drowned in it, and it was glorious. But my head would tell me what I was doing was wrong, how could I let someone treat me like that, and then it became how can someone who loves me, treat me like that? And even then, I craved it, my body knew, it knows. I know we do it because we both love it - and we love each other - but there is still that small part of me... I don't know, I guess you don't just indulge me, you revel in seeing my needs are met, you take pleasure in that," he reaches out for Antony's hand. "What we have, turns everything I ever learned about my submission on it's head."

Antony nods, mulling that over as he gives Stephen's hand a squeeze. "So what do you need from me?" he asks. "I see you struggling and my default is to want to take care of you, fix things, find an instant solution, and I don't think there is one, is there?"

"An instant solution? No, there isn't," Stephen looks down at their joined hands. "I love that you have that urge to do whatever it takes to make me happy, no one else ever put me first before." He pauses to lick over his lower lip. "Maybe, maybe we need to talk about my submission, I mean really talk about it, about how you see it, and about how I perceive it, and how we both experience it, because we need to be on the same page if we're taking the next step into me being more." _Slave._ A word he can't bring himself to say right now. 

"When? Now?" Antony asks.

Stephen shrugs, blowing out a breath. "I don't know, is it better to do it here? When we only have each other to worry about? Or at home, where we're on familiar ground, I don't know. I really don't know." 

"Do you feel up to doing it now?" Antony asks, mindful of how far down Stephen still was last night.

"I should eat first," Stephen picks up his fork and pokes at his food, "and drink coffee," he adds with a half smile. "An empty belly solves nothing."

"True," Antony agrees with a smile, picking up a slice of bacon. He's not really hungry - maybe it's the heat - but he takes a bite anyway.

Stephen works his way through his food, but he barely tastes it, experiences none of his usual enjoyment in eating. When he's done he takes his plate back to the trolley and brings the coffee flask back to the sofa to top up both their cups. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, cursing himself for bringing down what had started out as a beautiful morning - and it's not even 9 am yet.

Antony shakes his head. "Don't be," he says. "You can't help feeling the way you're feeling and it doesn't do any good to sit on it."

"Please don't think I don't want to kneel for you, that I don't need that," Stephen sinks down to the floor at Antony's feet, his legs curled under him. "I just think I need to reframe it, in the context of us, of how we play, and how you treat me." 

"And how do you do that?" Antony says, reaching to brush his fingers along Stephen's cheek, the sight of his boy on his knees making his cock stir even now. Christ.

"We never talked at the beginning did we? About why we do what we do, there's more to it than it simply 'feeling good'," Stephen blows out a breath and sets his hand on Antony's knee. "I kneel, I knelt for men who could give me some of what I needed, now I kneel for a man who doesn't use that to take what he wants from me, so much as he uses it to deepen both of our experiences, uses it to enhance the depth of our connection." 

Antony nods. "Because this isn't just about getting off. If it was, I'd use the in-house subs. I wanted more. I wanted you and I wanted the way we fit together."

"Right from the beginning?" Because Stephen knows Antony wasn't really looking for a 'someone', no more than he was. 

"You mean the very first night?" Antony clarifies.

Stephen shrugs. "Then and in the weeks after."

Antony blows out a breath. "I knew there was something almost right away," he admits. "Even in the bar, I was attracted to you like I hadn't been to anyone else. I'm not saying it was a huge neon sign saying this is the one or anything like that, but there was something, and after our first night together, that feeling didn't go away. I wouldn't have asked you out to dinner if it had. I wouldn't have declared my interest in you the way I did, asking you to let me know if anyone offered you anything. But when you asked me to humiliate you, the thing with the condom, that cemented it, and when you asked me to be your sir, I'd already been thinking about it."

"Yeah, that," Stephen smiles at the memory. "...that was what did it for me too, you just..." he pauses and swallows. "I thought I was getting what I'd had before, someone to kneel for, in the hope some of my kinks would be tended to. I never expected someone who'd actively seek them out and meet them." He looks up at Antony, his fingers closing tighter of his husband's knee. "Not one of my previous Sirs ever indulged my boot kink. Even when I asked, when I was permitted a reward, that was never allowed."

"Either they didn't care what you wanted or it made them uncomfortable and they weren't man enough to admit it," Antony says, the words barely touching how he feels about Stephen's previous dominants. "Whereas our kinks line up. There's nothing you want that I don't want too - and if there was, we'd talk about it, find a way to make sure you got it."

"I think it was that one-sidedness that made me think and feel that what I was, what I am, as a submissive was weak, less than. Because I served in hope, and not from a place of knowing I had a right to expect to have my needs met. Or that I needed to have my emotions taken care of too, something..." he tails off and doesn't finish with 'Cam made sure he avoided dealing with'. 

"Something they ignored?" Antony guesses. He shakes his head. "They weren't good dominants, Stephen. They weren't even good human beings. And I don't blame you for taking what they were willing to give you. When you don't know anything else exists, you take what's on offer. What you _can_ get. But I want you for your strength, for your needs and desires, for our equal partnership in this."

"I think I get it now," Stephen pushes up onto his knees and shuffles between Antony's thighs, his hands on his husband's hips. "We have to be equals, because without a submissive a dominant is nothing, without a slave, there is no master, one necessitates the other. You are a strong, a hard playing dominant, a weak boy would never be able to meet and match you... right?" He seeks Antony's gaze for confirmation that he's on the right track. That these revelations, as new as they are, are their truth.

"Right," Antony nods firmly. "I would never be able to push them the way I push you and trust they could take it."

"Thank you," Stephen reaches up to take Antony's tags in his fingers, the first gift he'd bought for his Sir. He's rarely seen Antony without them since. "For not only being the dominant I need, but for giving me a safe space to question and second guess myself, I know now, what it is to be loved so very completely." he looks up to meet those gorgeous blue eyes.

Antony leans down, kissing Stephen softly but firmly. "I can't imagine my world without you, and that's what our relationship is supposed to be, our marriage, a safe space for both of us."

"And do I give you that too? A space to be? To be vulnerable, to be... Tony?" Stephen asks as Antony pulls away, his fingers close tighter around the tags and he leans in just a little more.

"You do," Antony nods. "And it doesn't matter where we are. You're my home, my refuge."

"I'm glad, I still feel this is one sided sometimes," But there's a tentative smile curving Stephen's mouth at that, "I mean... plane..."

"Which has been _brilliant_ this trip," Antony points out. "And benefits us both."

"Teasing," Stephen smiles, a genuine one this time, tension bleeding from his body, his shoulders dropping down, his fingers loosening their hold on the tags. 

Antony laughs. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Grateful for the smile, the way he can see Stephen relax.

"No darling man, no you're not," Stephen leans in now, sets his cheek against Antony's chest and closes his eyes.


End file.
